“I don’t have your number, so my options were limited.”
“Oh . . .” She leaned to the side to dig around on her cluttered nightstand.
When I realized she was looking for something to write on, I assumed it was to give me her number, so I handed her my phone instead. She typed her information into my contacts and handed it back without meeting my stare.
“Thanks. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to finally have this.” I shook my cell, referring to her number.
Concern deepened the lines next to her eyes when she asked, “Why?”
“Allowing you to fondle me in the laundry room without even having your number made me feel a little cheap.” My heart skipped a few beats when her lips curled at the corners. “I started to wonder if you were only using me.”
She cocked her head to the side and squinted. “Let’s go ahead and add that to the list of things never to be spoken of again.”
“Add what?”
“The kiss.”
“Can’t make any promises.” I patted her knee and shifted on the mattress to get up. “In the future, I’ll call or text.”
“For what?” The confusion in her eyes made me question where her mind was if she couldn’t remember what we’d just talked about or why she’d programmed her information into my phone.
“To see if you’re all right. You know . . . the next time you run out of the restaurant after wishing someone a happy birthday.”
A huffed laugh blew past her lips as she shook her head. “I doubt there’ll be a next time. I’m pretty sure I don’t have a job anymore.”
“Would they seriously fire you for serenading a customer?”
“No.” Her gaze lowered to her lap, where she picked at the pillowcase. “I walked off the line, which is a federal offense. I wouldn’t be surprised if they have my position filled before they lock the doors tonight.”
“What does walking off the line mean?”
“That I left my post. My station. It’s just a term used in kitchens since we all basically stand side by side. Regardless, I walked out—job abandonment.”
“Will they call you to let you know? Or would they wait until you show up for work tomorrow to tell you that you don’t work there anymore?”
She shrugged. “No idea. Never been fired before. I guess I’ll find out one way or another when I get there in the morning, huh?”
“Well, let me know what happens. You still have to teach me how to cook all this food you got me, and I don’t start work until next week. Maybe we can figure something out between now and then for you to come over, considering I can’t exactly make anything until I’ve had a lesson or two.”
Her smile was uncertain, and I found myself desperate to believe it was nothing more than her awkwardness. It took me by surprise—as had a lot of other realizations tonight. When I had suggested she come to my house and cook for me, or teach me how, it had been in jest. I’d simply tried to tease her for picking out ingredients I had never used and couldn’t even identify. But now, the idea of her not following through left me unsettled, much like the thought of her seeing me as an overprotective brother. I wasn’t happy with either one, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it—if anything.
Instead of sitting there and picking the issue apart in front of her, I decided to leave. It was clear she’d gone back to hibernating in her shell. When she was an active participant in our banter, I was fine. When she closed herself off and grew quiet, I became uncertain of how to proceed.
I slipped off the bed and stood next to her with my arms out. She stared at me like I had eight arms, implying once more that she didn’t appreciate physical contact, regardless of what she’d said. Suddenly, it dawned on her what I was waiting for—her realization came in the form of rolling eyes and a groan I doubted she intended for me to hear.
“How could I forget?” The way she dragged herself off the mattress reminded me of my little cousin Lizzie when Marlena made her tell someone goodbye—completely unenthusiastic. It was obvious she didn’t want to. “I’m a hugger,” she droned as she practically fell into my chest with the gusto of a dead body.
“Have a good night, Tatum.” Laughter filled my whispered words while I tightened my hold on her. “Relax . . . everything will be fine.”
The second I loosened my arms, she stepped out of our embrace and collapsed onto the edge of the bed.
I waited until she met my stare before adding, “Promise you’ll call or text tomorrow to let me know what your boss says?”
“Sure thing.”
As much as I wanted to stay and hang out, there was a good chance I’d end up cleaning her room. Good God, this woman could use a lesson or two—or twenty—in the art of organization. So rather than stick around, I left.
Kelsey was on the couch when I walked out of Tatum’s room. She dropped her arm with the remote in her hand, the volume on the TV coming to life. As irritating as she could be, I couldn’t help but find her obvious actions funny. She wasn’t slick.
“See ya, Kelsey,” I tossed over my shoulder and closed the door behind me.
When I made it to my car and folded myself behind the steering wheel, I grabbed my phone. I sent Tatum a text so she’d have my number, and while I stared at the screen, at Tatum’s name, I wondered if I’d been lying to myself.
It hadn’t quite been a month since I’d walked away from Jen—the woman I’d spent the last five years with, planned to marry, thought I had a future with. A relationship, no matter with whom, was not in my cards for the foreseeable future.
But that didn’t stop me from thinking about Tatum every chance I got.
8
Tatum
The second Jason closed the door, I threw myself face-first into a pillow.
This must’ve been my punishment for lying. Tell one, and the embarrassing moments would never end. It was enough to deter me from ever lying again. Well, once I made it through this one, that is. I still had to deal with everyone at the restaurant believing my new boyfriend couldn’t go a few weeks without cheating on me. If that wasn’t a ringing endorsement to date me, I didn’t know what was.
And as if things couldn’t get worse, I had maybe twenty seconds to absorb Jason’s visit before my door opened again. I popped up, praying he hadn’t returned for a second round, and found Kelsey’s head poking inside. She had moments of peculiarity, and it seemed this was one of them—sniffing the air in my room wasn’t normal.
“What are you doing?” I questioned her.
“Just making sure it doesn’t smell like sex in here.”
I groaned and sat up. “He was here for like two minutes. Even if it did smell like sex, I think that alone would ensure it wouldn’t happen again.”
“Good point.” Kelsey invited herself in, and I wondered when my room had become the after-school hangout. She collapsed onto the bed with her arms above her head and eyes cast to the ceiling. “Has he ever hit on you? And be honest with me. I won’t think less of you if he has.”
“No, Kels. He’s never hit on me.” At least, as far as I was aware. I’d never claimed to be any good at telling the difference between flirting and normal adult conversation.
“Good.” She paused for a moment and then turned her head to look at me. “You’d tell me if you had the hots for him, right?”
“Had the hots for him? Is that term still used these days?”
“Well, it was either that or have a crush on him, and I’m fairly certain that’s not acceptable to use outside of a playground. Stop deflecting. Do you or do you not have a thing for Jason?”
“I barely know him.” I prayed that would be enough to pacify her, because I doubted I could convincingly tell her that I hadn’t given her cousin the starring role in every fantasy I’d had since the day I’d met him. Or that I’d led everyone I worked with to believe we were dating.
My phone vibrated from somewhere on my bed, but with the pile of blankets and random pieces of clothing that never made it to the f
loor, there was no telling where it was. I would’ve looked for it, but Kelsey stopped me when she said, “You don’t have to know a person to be attracted to them.”
“Oh, you just want to know if I think he’s hot? Of course I do. Have you seen him?” There was a good chance that hadn’t been the right answer, so I tried again. “I mean, he’s okay. If you’re into guys like him. Which I’m not. Does that answer your question? How’s work?”
“Either you took something for your headache that’s not FDA approved, or we need to get you to a hospital, because I’m fairly certain something is wrong with your brain. Actually, now that I think about it, a CAT scan might be a good idea either way.”
I turned to the side and stretched out across the mattress next to her. I’m sure she assumed it was to settle in for quality time with my best friend, but in reality, I’d moved from sitting to lying down to keep her from seeing my face. If I couldn’t be completely honest with her about something, I’d rather not look her in the eye while doing it.
In my defense, I didn’t choose to be dishonest with her. I couldn’t help it if I found her cousin beyond physically attractive. And it wasn’t my fault she asked questions she wouldn’t like the answers to.
It was my duty as her best friend to tell her what she wanted to hear.
Dishonest or not.
“Just because I’m related to him doesn’t mean I’m blind. It’s not like I can be upset if you think he’s hot.” She turned her head toward me, while I kept my gaze glued to the fan above us. “I only ask because I’m trying to keep you from doing what every single one of Marlena’s friends did back in high school.”
“What do you mean? What’d they do?”
“I can tell you all day long what a player he is or recount every story that ended with a broken heart, but at the end of the day, there’s a reason he always got away with it. Marlena’s friends were well aware of his reputation, but I guess he smiled enough or said the right words, because at some point, they all ignored the red flags and gave up the goods.”
“So you’re worried that I’ll fall for his charm, too?”
She grabbed my hand and waited until I rolled my head to the side and looked at her. “From what I’ve heard, it’s easy to do. And you’re in a really vulnerable position right now. I highly doubt Aunt Lori would appreciate it if I prevented her from ever having grandkids. Jason is her only child, and if I’m forced to castrate him for hurting you, there’s a good chance I won’t be her favorite niece anymore.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, but instead, I returned my attention to the ceiling and nodded. “Yeah, I can see the predicament his good looks have put you in. You certainly wouldn’t want to forfeit your position as favorite niece and let your sister take the throne.” It was difficult, but I managed that without laughing.
Kelsey’s family were amazing people. In some ways, they reminded me of my own, only more involved in each other’s lives. I might have had a close relationship with my parents and brother, but we couldn’t have been more spread out geographically if we’d tried, which made direct involvement difficult. At least with the Petersons—Jason’s mom included—I had that sense of belonging. They made me feel like I fit in, welcomed me into their tightly knit unit, and automatically included me in everything.
With that being said, I felt a stronger connection to Lori than to Kelsey’s mom. It was difficult to explain, but it seemed like she got me the most. And since we had this unspoken bond, I could accurately say that Kelsey was not Lori’s favorite. Not Kelsey’s fault or anything, but I’d heard enough stories about how close Marlena and Lori were to feel confident in that conclusion.
“Too bad I’m weak and helpless.” I hoped she heard more of the sarcasm in my tone than the defeat her words had left me with. “Otherwise, I’d be capable of making my own decisions rather than stripping naked and spreading my legs at the first hint of attention from Jason.”
She huffed—my pessimism and hurt feelings didn’t go unnoticed. “That’s not what I meant by vulnerable, Tater. I was only trying to say that when our hearts are broken, we tend to seek validation in unhealthy places. If one guy hurts us, we look to another to make it better.”
“Aren’t you the one who told me the other day that I need to get laid?”
“Yes. But there’s a big difference between a no-strings romp with someone to get you over the heartache and confusing validation for emotion. Sex can be just sex. Where things go wrong is when feelings come into play—when you mistake the attention for something deeper. And that was always the issue with Jason. My sister’s friends would fall for him, assume his desires were more than surface level, and in the end, they were the ones who suffered.”
“So what you’re saying is . . . sex is okay as long as I keep my feelings out of it?”
“Exactly. It doesn’t have to always be like that, but until you’re completely over Michael, I’d say it’s best to refrain from an emotional connection of any kind. You know, like if you find yourself wanting to call the person up to talk about your day, or smile at the sound of his voice, or get that dreamy look in your eyes when you think about him . . . that’s when you know it’s gone beyond sex.”
I bit my lip while nodding slowly in thought. Based on that, a sexual relationship with Jason wouldn’t technically be wrong. I didn’t have any desire to share my day with him; the sound of his voice did many things to me, but making me smile wasn’t one of them; and while I’d never seen myself when he crossed my mind, I felt confident dreamy wouldn’t be the word for the look in my eyes. The only reason he was off limits was because Kelsey had said so, and from what I gathered, her reasons stemmed from a need to protect me from getting hurt. However, if I had no emotional connection to him, and my desires were strictly physical, then there wouldn’t be a problem because he wouldn’t hurt me.
“You make very good points, Kels.” I patted her hand that remained between us on the bed. “I’ll definitely remember that if I end up taking your advice and sleep with someone.”
She pushed up on one elbow and leaned toward me. “Just be careful, Tater. It’s super easy to fall for a guy you’re sleeping with and not realize it until it’s too late, especially for someone who’s inexperienced with booty calls.”
“I appreciate the advice, but I’m pretty sure I’ll know if I start to develop feelings for someone. Someone who’s not your cousin.” I might have been a novice when it came to casual sex, but I was fully aware of emotions, especially of the romantic variety.
My phone vibrated again, and this time, Kelsey got up. “Who keeps texting you? Don’t they know you’re supposed to be at work right now?”
I laughed while searching the bed for the missing device. “My guess would be Tanner. I called him on my way home from the restaurant, but he had to hang up—one of the kids got into something, and Loraine needed help. I didn’t ask. Anyway, he said he’d call me back, so that’s probably him.”
“Fine. I’ll leave you alone so you can bore your brother with tales of the kitchen. Tell him I said hi, and that my offer to join him in Alaska still stands.” She winked, and before leaving the room, she added, “Hope your migraine goes away.”
That made me feel like crap, reminding me that I had lied to her. However, once I located my phone, a different kind of guilt crept in. While the last message had been from my brother, the first one hadn’t. Had Kelsey seen the unknown number, followed by, “Hey, it’s Jason. Now you can get ahold of me whenever you want. Call or text me tomorrow,” she would’ve flipped out.
I ignored Jason’s text and responded to Tanner’s, texting to him back and forth for a few hours. I finally said good night and closed my eyes, but sleep didn’t come easy. My brain refused to shut off, bouncing between Jason, Michael, Kelsey, and my job until the next thing I knew, my alarm sounded, alerting me that it was morning.
Kelsey wasn’t home when I walked through the door. It was much earlier than I usually got off work, so I shouldn’t have expecte
d her to be here. But damn, I could use my best friend right now. Not that I could really tell her much, other than Michael was a jackass who’d allowed Victor to put me on a four-day suspension. She already knew he was a jackass, and I’d have to keep the details of why I had an unpaid, unrequested four-day weekend vague. Especially since I’d told her last night that I’d gotten off early because I hadn’t been feeling well.
My messy, unmade bed called to me, reminding me of how tired I was after tossing and turning all night long. It was so inviting that I stripped down to my panties and threw myself into the pile of blankets and pillows.
The cool sheets felt so amazing there was no fighting it. The second my eyes closed, I was out, not once waking until three thirty in the afternoon. Sleep continued to cling to me while I stretched and kicked off the covers, but as soon as the air hit my bare skin, the numbness in my limbs vanished, and the fog in my head disappeared. I grabbed my phone, wondering how I’d managed to block out the world for over four hours without being interrupted by calls or texts. The answer never came to me, especially after seeing a message from my brother, two from Jason, and a few missed calls from the restaurant.
I jumped up while playing the voice mails on speaker.
“I heard about you getting suspended, and I wanted to tell you that I think it’s bullshit.” Amanda’s voice droned on from my bed while I rummaged through the pile of clean clothes in search of something to wear. “If you want to talk, you know my number. I’m off at four. Or . . . you could totally call the restaurant and fill me in.”
Settling on the least-wrinkled shirt, I pulled it over my head and adjusted it so the oversized neck hole fell to one side, exposing my shoulder and bra strap. And with a pair of denim shorts in my hand, I heard the next message begin—unsurprisingly, also from Amanda.
“Okay, so I tried to act all nonchalant about you calling to tell me what happened, but I’m gonna have to be real with you right now. I’m not that patient. Everyone is starting to talk, and I’d like to set the record straight.” Her voice grew distant as she mumbled, “I’ll be right with you.” Then she came back on the line, her voice lower and her words almost running together. “Seriously, Tatum . . . call me back.”
The (Half) Truth Page 11